A Cool Scene And Colder Beer

It was only Monday afternoon but here's what you get at The Heritage, especially on a nearly perfect spring day:

Walking around the marina where yachts the size of a nice clubhouse are anchored, you can hear a guy singing Zac Brown's 'Chicken Fried' across the way at the Quarter Deck where the rocking chairs are full and the music drifts on the breeze;

Keep walking and you run into a big tent pitched behind the 18th green, designed to be a party house. On Monday afternoon, there's only a small pro-am being played and, other than John Daly whose group has already come through, there's not much reason for spectators to be around.

But one of the guys working in the pavilion says, "Come on in, we've got the coldest beer you can find."

It's tempting. There are more rocking chairs, half of them filled, all pointed toward Calibogue Sound where the view never gets old.

You keep walking and you wander through live oaks and spanish moss and you wind up back at the clubhouse, which sits tucked under the trees. A handful of pros are on the practice green, killing time more than working on their putting strokes, while another one or two players pull into the small parking lot and begin unloading.

You overhear players making plans to play a practice round together. You hear caddies chit-chatting and reps for putting companies standing near their equipment, offering hope to the hopeless.

It's an easy day, asking you to look around at where you are.

Only one question lingers:

Is that man telling the truth about how cold the beer is behind the 18th green?

There's only one way to find out.